Welcome To Condale

Drive past his slowmo lines of leafy suburban streets
The mayor drinks too much and smiles at everyone he meets
It's a great place to raise kids, but they never will grow up
Families build houses on the graves of those they've loved

I'm coming home
I'm coming home
I'm coming home
I'm coming home

The crew gets meat at midnight, but they never can go far
They hold each other too close and lie about who they are
Rows of perfect houses, but the mothers still want more
They chain smoke in the bedroom
And there's fights behind the door

Those who move away are left with ache deep inside
It's always sunday sunset and it reeks of smalltown pride